A Verdant Breath
by SilverCascade
Summary: "Mother Nature was generous with her gifts; it was enough to make every other being envious." Hagakure's last outing before entering Hope's Peak Academy. One-shot.


"Take your breath in when you need it, an' let it go when you need to."  
- John Steinbeck, "The Grapes of Wrath"

* * *

Hagakure's feet were hoisted high above him, kicked up against the side of the tree. The sticky bark matched the straps of his new sandals, bought especially for today; soft leather, warm and pliable, made walking in the woods a hundred times more enjoyable. The jacket on his shoulders felt light, his shirt rustling when he shifted in the long grass. It tickled his nose and chin and cheeks when he moved, head resting on his backpack, face holding a smile. His eyes, closed, saw specks dancing, ruptures of colour, soft blues and hard yellows over a sea of smooth green waves. So much freshness hovered in the air that with every breath he took, he absorbed the goodness around him. Humidity, heat, greenery. He drank the life of the world, and he smiled harder. Mother Nature was generous with her gifts; it was enough to make every other being envious.

With a sigh, he rolled to the left. The grass was in his hair, coarse pearls rubbing his face and scalp. A ladybird tripped over his chin, miniature legs trekking through his stubble. Hagakure's hands brushed it away, a sweeping motion over his cheeks telling the bug it was time to leave. A gesture so simple, but so unlike the squeal he'd let out at the sight of that cockroach in his hotel room. But when surrounded by people, by concrete and iron and choking, it was a reaction to be expected. Alone in the middle of the forest, in the presence of grass and hills and flowers like those gorgeous bluebells and pale pink buds he couldn't name, this was where calmness ruled. Here, he could think. He could relax. He could clear everything from his overworked, overfilled mind, and prepare himself for the wonderful future awaiting him.

These walks couldn't be underestimated in their restorative power, not with these lunches that stretched the stomach with Nature's goods. Once a week was the minimum, but Hagakure had been venturing into the woods more and more frequently; it had almost become a daily habit. Two hours of solid walking, an hour of laying face to face with the bugs, and then the two hour walk back… it was tiring, but that was the best part. He slept every night. He didn't need anything else; no other substance, except a variety of alcohol, kept him this way. He gave up the other enhancers some time ago at his manager's forceful discretion. Still, he couldn't argue that it hadn't been the best decision he'd ever made.

Crickets brushed their legs against his cheek, grabbing a yell from his voice. Torn between laughter and disgust, Hagakure shot up, forehead slamming into a low branch, and with a yelp he fell back down.

"How didn't I see that?" he moaned, rubbing his head. "Man, I sure hope the Academy didn't make a mistake in choosing me as their representative Fortune Teller…"

At the sound of his voice, the trees quietened. No rustling, no hissing, nothing… they held their breath as they waited for the man to realize and -

"Bwahahahaha!" Hagakure's laugh diffused through the quiet, stirring the birds and bugs. Song erupted from the not-so-empty cavities in the trees, and the man laughed again, more quietly this time. "Hope! They should call me the Super High School Level Pun Master, 'right?"

There was something calming about speaking to nobody, because the words floated from his lips gently rather than being spat in anger or fear. His mind was so mellow, his heart rate so slow, that he wondered if this was how it felt to be dead. No, was the conclusion. This was how it felt to be alive.

A lightness perched in his heart, which he hadn't felt in such a long time. A clean body, a clean mind, a clean start. Twenty years old and returning to school as a freshman. Many would laugh, and many did. But bearing their words with a smile was easier than expected; it didn't matter what they said. This was something to look forward to, despite what his crystal ball suggested. It had shown him violent images in quick flashes; stark shots of crumpled corpses stained with blood, metal cages and flying baseballs and shrill screams and great licks of fire... But he was correct only thirty percent of the time. The thought of the prestigious Hope's Peak Academy allowing such senseless violence was absurd. It wasn't going to happen. Unless he'd foreseen an astounding play, with ultra-real stage make-up and quality acting. Now that was exciting!

Though it would be a lie to say the improvised walk was not started by falling out of his gem-studded tent after seeing those images, tails of colourful smoke following him, all but garish theatrics. But when he closed his eyes, he saw golden light pooling under his lids, weaving through his eyelashes and sliding into his mind. And when he opened those heavy lids, the remnants of a grin at the corners of his lips, the light was above him; transcendent, hovering, sifting through layers of greenery to caress his face with soft fingers. Warmth. Whispers of warmth against his cheeks, and he felt just fine.

It wasn't that he had never been incorrect before. Predictions had a knack for going awry, that was certain, but his predictions sometimes… merged. The crystal wasn't as clear as they liked to think; Tarot was more accurate, but he had been too frightened to try that. This was exactly like the instance he'd confused Earl Eichel's wife with a prostitute in the Bahamas whilst assessing whether she was cheating on him. In fact, the vision had been of the prostitute doing her job, which merged with the Earl's wife lunching with the Duchess Cordelia… She had been on a date with the Duchess, sure, but that wasn't the point. His prediction had been incorrect. That was what was happening now… a merged prediction…

With a yawn, he stretched out his limbs, methodically, slowly, each one in turn, feeling muscles pull against one another, tendon tug against skin. His neck tilted to the left with a creak, and then to the right. Hagakure sat up and leaned forward, hands pressing into the soil, long arms reaching for long legs, fingers stretching to meet exposed toes pushed against bark. He swung his feet down and into the grass and turned to the goods behind him, his backpack, and the empty bottles of water resting beside it. He tidied the bottles away, but not before admiring how the light came out in rainbow-tinted strings when diving through them. His crystal ball had rolled out from its case, the glimmering beauty that he'd forked out over a million yen for. The crystal ball that would save the world! It hadn't done so yet, and it had worked only as well as some of the more average crystals he owned, but... it would someday! It would save a life, or assist in a court of law, or help bring people together. Maybe even all three… it sure wasn't beyond those realms.

Gazing at the crystal, massive and sparkling blue, Hagakure realised he had not purchased a crystal ball; he'd bought a promise. A crystal was only as good as its shaman, so he _had_ to go to this school! It was an honour to be chosen, but it was also his duty as the bringer of world peace and a new hope. To learn how to use the crystal, he would need robust education. Apparently, its power could not be learned through the ascetics in India, nor the monks in Tibet, both of whom he had visited and stayed with and attempted to learn from. The Buddhists had been the kindest, but he'd was told he'd made a mistake; the power was not in the crystal, they'd said, because the power was in himself. It was a thought he appreciated, but he did not agree. Mother Nature's glory was more than his could ever be; he was only an assistant, but a glad one.

Too much responsibility was never his forte. But wasn't it his job to at least tell someone about what he had seen? How strange it would be to start talking about death on the first day of school... No, maybe keeping quiet was for the best. At least until he had made some friends who he could trust, and who wouldn't laugh at him... Now that was something he hadn't thought about. Friendship. That was something to hope for.

The crystal was wrapped in its crimson cloths and tucked into the bag, and Hagakure stood up, slung it over his shoulders, and sighed. His bones were heavy but his heart was humming. Though his eyes threatened to close on the walk home, driving him into patches of poison ivy and nettles, he knew the song in his throat would guide him safely.

It was a long walk back to the hotel, where his tent had been left abandoned in the back gardens. At least the day wasn't dark yet, he thought, and opened his mouth to say something. The light had gotten lighter, by some miracle; as the day waned, pale yellow poured through the pores of leaves, kissing his cheeks lightly, a goodbye kiss from a mother. He beamed, and turned back the way he had come. Five slow steps, and he left the glade for good.


End file.
